


It Started With A Bang

by ozsia



Series: Open and Bare [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Graphic Description, Intimacy, M/M, Mafia themes, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-23 05:33:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8315785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsia/pseuds/ozsia
Summary: Without a word Tsunayoshi is shoved further back into his chair. A yelp escapes him at the violence but Xanxus ignores the sound as he jerks the seat to face him before he bends half his height to brutally rip Tsunayoshi's shirt open. Buttons fly, scattering around the room in a raincloud of plastic. Xanxus couldn't care less about that. His eyes are set on the bandages securing Tsunayoshi's injured chest; white melding with milk skin and raw scars. Swallowing the bitter guilt, he demands:'What the hell were you thinking?!'[story requested on Fanfiction.net]





	

Regaining consciousness was anything but sudden. However, precisely as thought started to quietly hum in his head the pain began to register too and a low broken moan splintered his lips from were they'd been sealed, before he could think to stifle it.

The blanket of deadened ice coating his limbs started to thaw to a sensitive fire, a wave of agony he'd been protected from with the numbness. His fingers hopelessly twitched, the buds rubbing  against what felt like hundreds of needle points; the rough. 

 _Grenade,_ was the first piercing image to make it through the fog and disorientation. 

His breathing clogged in his throat choking him fiercely as the knots in his stomach tightened and forced him to try and cough. It was a weak attempt but one his body wasn’t ready for as it rocked him into further urging, until acid was burning his mouth and his hacks turned wet with bile he had no hope of swallowing down.

The smell assaulted his nose and further sickened him but it had served to blow clear some of the haze. Unbidden images swam in his mind of just before the explosion, the minute frames of his comrades being blown in opposite directions before sharp pain and darkness descended are like an uncoloured showreel. 

 _Grenades,_ he thought again. _There's nothing more repetitive or annoying than_ grenades. 

But there was no time for that. No time for _this -_ this struggle. He - he needed to find them. Fighting to breathe properly, he forced himself to open his eyes before they were ready. His thick eyelashes came apart like glue and they immediately shuttered close, watering and impossibly sore; probably from the light of the blast and the dust and the grit.

Barely lucid, it was instinct that made him try again. With more than a decade of risks and close and from Reborn and his training, he was able to react, rely on instinct, on his situational awareness. Instantaneous responses were merely a matter of muscle memory and Dying Will, because ' _as Vongola Decimo, you can’t afford to oversleep. Have you overslept?'_

His petit frame was racked with a violent shudder as he tried to shift. There was dust around him burning his throat and it was almost too dense to breathe. _Rubble,_ he thought weakly. _It's all rubble._

His eyes pulled themselves open again, the film over his eye burning bitterly from what could only be building-air and the amount of blood he had wasted. He tried swallowing as he blinked, his whole self aching. His joints were so stiff it felt like they would snap if he tried to move and his muscles were pulled taut, but that didn’t stop him from biting down on a lip he couldn’t rightly feel and attempting to _move._

He tried to get his fingers under him. The signal travelling straight up his arm where it reached his shoulder blade that no sooner blared in white, hot agony. The scream that irrupted his mouth with little filter echoed mockingly around him, a sound he couldn’t recognise nor barely hear over the wave of pain and the continuous buzzing.

The whimper built in his throat and stubbornly persisted; a weakness he was rarely allowed. Going even slower than before, he attempted to lift his arm from the ground, but he moved like a foal fresh to life. His limb jerked and he fumbled with his fingers until they were underneath him. With his palm, he tried with all the strength he could muster to push upwards.

He felt its elevation and the discomfort it brought him. ' _Come on, Dame-Tsuna,'_ a squeaky voice in his head told him. ' _Show me your spine.'_ Tensing his abs, his body made to follow his arm, his torso gradually easing off the floor while his neck lolled helplessly to his shoulder.

Panting and his conciseness fraying, the voice taunted him: ' _Where’s your Dying Will?'_ and he tried, and failed to move his legs. ' _Come one, Dame-Tsuna,'_ it told him, urging and forceful but becoming distant. ' _Come on. You’re my student, and no student of mine is a slacker. You_ need _to get up.'_

The desperate sob was set to smother him as he wheezed. No matter how much he commanded it, begged them, his legs stayed sprawled out behind him. Dead to him and what he told them to do.

‘Can’t,’ he cried dryly, in despair. ‘Can’t do it.’

* * *

Squalo ran at full tilt with Belphegor and Levi on either side as his teeth set themselves on edge in irritation that was only present to mask his worry. The silence was almost eerie with the only thing to hear the pounding of their feet and their ragged breaths. 

Searching an enemies stronghold that was all but blown apart, Squalo couldn’t help but blame the pipsqueak for all of this. This was _meant_ to have been an assignment - one of few nowadays - so they hadn’t been very picky when the details came to them printed in G-Code. 

Of course, they had been working but a hit hadn’t been ordered in years which probably should have been the first clue that something was wrong. “Wrong” showed up as a neon sign in the form of Mini-Boss, himself, on their jet to their mission. A sign they were too fucking stupid to see until it was too late.

Sawada wasn’t a hitman. If he wasn’t so strong, it would be pathetic to have a mafia boss who hadn’t at least fucking _dabbled_. But he never had, so him appearing to come with them - the _Varia_ , should have told them enough. That there was an agenda besides the fact that some fuck had managed to cause enough trouble for Sawada to need him gone. 

(And the most fucking annoying thing about it is that - after a brief argument where they had all demanded what the Mini-Boss thought he was _doing -_ Xanxus had glared at him thoughtfully for what seemed like an eternity (who, in response fucking _smiled)_ before he blank-point ordered for take off.)

‘Fucking shits,’ Squalo swore, eyeing a corpse as they passed in a voice that sent chills up his fellow Guardian’s spines. Silent for Squalo equalled dangerous. ‘Fucking Mini-Boss,’ he spat far more bitterly.

Turns out this had been _personal_ and that they had been brought into this because the pipsqueak thought in that fucked up, little head of his that it involved them too. And for Xanxus, he was painfully _right._

Nono had been assassinated which had forced Sawada onto the throne left behind far too early and everyone and their goldfish had known it. The whole affair was stressful and rushed; bathed in necessity, with the Decimo getting flown over as soon as the news had been passed over to avoid infighting. Still grieving for a man he called “grandfather,” Mini-Boss was forced to toughen up and build the mafia’s confidence in him, that he didn’t have in himself.

On the side while Sawada set to transform Vongola and the underworld as a whole, his pet hitman was out searching for the assassin and the fucker who would order such a hit. They had known; _everyone_ had. Xanxus had stayed out of it, but…the Varia Headquarters had never been in such disrepair than after the old man’s murder. 

And then Sawada had flown them out to a remote location, covered in hard terrain and a high security door that ember eyes took one look of before he had _melted them._ Something in Squalo’s stomach had tensed and Xanxus didn’t take a second longer before he was shoving past to try and reach Sawada as he strode into the building. 

A couple of men who were walking through the foyer didn’t get a chance to so much as shout before Sawada had taken them out. The gun Reborn had given him in his hands and completely on target despite his distain for using it. He'd been trained with it - fuck, he was  _Reborn's_ and it damn well showed.

The Varia shared glances before they all, silently, decided to remain back to see what would happen. They'd known that circumstances had changed.

Sawada’s stance had shifted from the one that he had used to shoot into something more relaxed, but felt just as deadly if his black aura had anything to say about it. His shoulders had risen with his sharp and steady intake of breath, which was the only warning before he excelled it all in a yell that could only sound like a lion’s enraged roar. 

‘ _ABANDONATO!’_

It didn’t take two minutes before the whole room was full of a ocean of fuckers. One man walked slowly through them as they parted for him. Sawada’s expression was a sneer, hatred darkening his glowing eyes as they both walked so that they stood fully in front of their respected guards. 

The smug look on the man sizing Sawada up like he was _nothing_ was enough to set Squalo on edge. ‘ _If it isn’t Don Vongola,’_ he stated in a tone that said he found all of this fucking _hilarious_. ‘ _What a surprise.’_

The heavy appearance of his shoulders, Sawada’s _face,_ was enough for the Varia to abandon their slightly scattered - _very_ disjointed positions to stand as a fan behind him; protective in a way that they would never admit to. Weapons were instantly at the ready as they waited.

‘ _Is it?’_

Squalo had seen Sawada be disrespected but never had anyone shown Mini-Boss such open dismissal before. ‘ _It is not every day that the figure head of the mafia turns up on your doorstep.’_  

’ _Sarcasm is unbefitting someone of your position,’_ Sawada had retorted, no more angry from the bastard’s attitude. ‘ _I swore I would find you on my Dying Will, Abandonato. Only a fool’s fool would think for one moment that they would be_ safe _afterwards and this day wouldn’t be coming.’_

Sawada had spoken in a low, methodical tone that was so uncharacteristic it felt like Squalo had been led by someone else entirely; someone who lacked the warmth that Sawada would so usually radiate, which Squalo _knew_ he processed. 

‘ _And now you’ve found me.’_ The smirk on the shit’s face spread.  ‘ _And no second chances, Mister Second-Coming-Of-Primo? What would your ancestor think?’_ Just remembering that made Squalo bristle but Sawada had stood straight - tall, like he wasn’t Japanese and at the disadvantage of at least a foot. 

‘ _…You seem to be under a woefully wrong impression, Don Abandonato,’_ Sawada had said slowly, calmly.

The Bastard’s face had faltered in a way reminiscent to the marshmallow freak’s when something doesn’t go his way, his slanted eyes darkening. ‘ _Oh?’_ He had hummed, as if interested but his delivery was flat and dry though not totally unconcerned. ‘ _How so, Decimo?’_

 _‘It is quite a common misunderstanding. Perhaps my own fault for allowing myself to be announced as “Neo-Primo”. However as you, yourself, said: I am Vongola_ Decimo,’ the pipsqueak said clearly. ‘ _Giotto de Vongola was a good man. A hero. A vigilante who went against his government and their police in order to protect people. It is decidedly ironic that you would assume that I had anything but my intuition in common with someone like that.’_

Sawada was better than he ever thought but it was probably because he _didn’t,_ that he remained so. It was however infuriating to hear Mini-Boss think _that_ because of that fucker. ‘ _I am a_ mafia boss, _Don Abandonato, and while I am shining the light onto our world I have no hesitance in doing_ whatever _I have to do. It makes me hypocritical but thinking otherwise is naive,’ h_ e rebuked, and for a moment Squalo thought he saw the Sun Arcobaleno in the brat’s shadow. ‘ _There’s just no comparison. I have experienced the darkness in ways Primo never had to. I am a by-product of mafiosi like_ you _, expecting any less from me…well, what were you_ thinking? _You have signed the destruction of your family.’_

The bastard seemed to be getting angry now, or at least unsettled. ‘ _People have done worst things to you, Vongola. What’s getting rid of one old has-been who had been standing in your way?’_

Squalo’s heart just about _stopped_ at that point, the final pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. He didn’t dare look at Xanxus and stayed very still. ‘ _I must repeat: I am not like Primo, I am not a hero. If I must change this world than I have to have a smaller goal than thinking about people I have never met.’_ Sawada’s face became very fixed and his gaze seemed to _burn. ‘My family; the lives of those who need me…They are the reason I do this. And you killed one of them, hurting countless others.’_

_‘Don’t act so high and mighty -‘_

_‘This isn’t about_ arrogance!’ Sawada had spoken over whatever dribble the fucker was about to waste air on, a rarity given the type of person their Mini-boss was but it was hardly unusual given the situation. ‘ _I know Vongola’s sins. I have experienced them personally.’_ Sawada’s shoulder’s flexed, a worrying sign. ‘ _If you or your family had been touched by our cruelty I would have…understood, but that just wasn’t the case was it?’_

The fucker’s lips paused, hands twitching into fists until his knuckles were white. It wouldn’t be long now…‘ _You sound awfully sure of yourself.’_

Sawada inclined his head. ‘ _Of course. Its the truth,’ h_ e responded simply. ‘ _You wanted to use the Ninth’s death as a distraction to further disrupt Vongola and cause chaos not only in our ranks but with our allies. You just hadn’t counted on my arrival or how quickly I would fix the mess you left me, isn’t that right, Don Abandonato? All this…it was for_ greed.’

‘ _Think what you want,’ t_ he man spat but Squalo could already see the truth simmering in his eyes.

Sawada shifted then and Squalo’s sword-arm jolted, anticipation swimming in his stomach. ‘ _You…not only are you selfish, you are unfit for your position,’_  he declared without emotion, like he was stating a fact and for all the brat used to protest his involvement with the mafia, he sure as fuck took it seriously. ‘ _You seem to have forgotten when you arranged that assassin to kill Nono that Vongola isn’t one. Sole. Person,’_ Sawada had bitten out but still entirely too relaxed. ‘ _You would be right in saying that we are very different, in many ways. We don’t always get along and disagree frequently. Our reputation is of being at each other’s throats but through all that - we are_ family. _And since you don’t seem to be the only one, I will have to remind people that when you target one of us, you will get all of us.’_

Any other words were lost with Sawada lighting his Flames and springing forward.

‘Vongola!’ Belphegor shouted without his usual peasant remarks.

Their eyes searched the rubble, hoping to the seven hells that he wasn’t under any of this shit. The building was nearly completely destroyed from the resulting fight and fuck it, if they had gotten paid enough for this. They had grouped themselves around Sawada because while Xanxus was used to battling with his rage Mini-Boss was not, and they didn’t want earache from his Guardians once they got back.

That wish was well and truly _gone._ The puppy was going to rip them a new one for this. 

Squalo wasn’t certain if they could be blamed. It had been going overwhelmingly in their favour until the pipsqueak and Xanxus was suddenly stood in front of them. He can still see Sawada slashing one of his hands through the air in order to create a barrier of Flames, while Xanxus - by his side - started to furiously fire his guns. It wasn’t until the fucking _Boom_ that Squalo realised what they had been going; protecting them. Protecting the shitty _Guardians._

‘Do you think we should leave Boss like that?’ Levi spoke, unwelcome and irritating.

'Shut the _fuck_ up!’ Squalo shouted, far beyond patient that it wasn’t even funny. Levi wanted to moan? He could leave.

‘If you’re so worried, turn back,’ Bel grumbled though obviously of the same opinion while trying and failing to hide a limp to his left side. Squalo wouldn’t be surprised if he had fractured something

They had all woken up rather quickly since most of the explosion had been blocked from them and had found each other rather easily in retrospect. It didn’t take long to discover Xanxus, seriously injured and pinned by a pillar. Worried but with the pipsqueak nowhere insight, Squalo had split them from Lussuria, Mammon and Flan who was left to tend to their boss.

They needed to find Sawada quickly because if Xanxus was in _that_ bad a condition than Mini-Boss couldn’t be doing well. He was obviously smaller, with a slender body and just seemed far more…delicate. 

Whatever. Despite his bitching Levi didn’t leave and kept running with the rest of them when a pained scream stopped them cold. Squalo felt his chest clench. He recognised the voice instantly and swearing all to hell that if an enemy had survived and had hurt _him,_ they wouldn’t live very long to brag about it. 

 _‘VOI!_ Sawada!’ Squalo yelled, voice dryer with his throat feeling like he'd been downing gravel. There was no reply and Squalo swore violently, dragging his hand through his hair while his sword-arm trembled with the desire to _destroy_ something. 

‘Oi, Squalo,’ Bel said urgently, pointing to a suspicious break in the wall which probably led to another room. "Suspicious" only for the scorch marks around the edges of the break, like say, someone had used Flames to soften a blow after being thrown into it.

It wasn’t a second later and the three of them were forcing themselves through the tight space. Squalo squinted into what could have been a lounge, or communal room, and his vision immediately fell onto a familiar form that had his back to them, torso weakly propped up with trembling arms.  

‘Sawada,’ Squalo breathed half-way between relief and concern at his state. Squalo ran forward only to slip once he had gotten closer, regaining his balance only to see the puddle of blood that had seeped around the Mini-Boss. Continuing with more caution, he made it to the brunet’s side. 

Without word he kneeled so he could better assess the damage. ‘Sawada,’ Squalo called almost gently but the man’s gaze didn’t so much as glance to him and instead continued staring half-mast at the floor, eyelids struggling to say open. 

Squalo frowned, leaning closer to try and pick up the faint murmurs that left Sawada between pants but couldn’t make out any of the words. Shock, was it? A concussion? Wanting the Mini-Boss’ attention more than ever, Squalo reached forward with his hand. His palm landed on the man’s left shoulder. The response he got wasn’t one he wanted as Sawada’s jaw cracked open and what could only described as a shriek ripped from his throat.

He would never admit to it but in that moment his heart jumped to his mouth. He snatched his hand back as if burnt, not full recognising as his fellow Guardians moved to knell on the other side of Sawada as the brunet swayed. Whatever strength he had summoned to pick him up left and he swayed into Squalo’s chest.

‘Shit,’ Squalo muttered through gritted teeth. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit. _Shit.’_

Squalo wasn’t a doctor but he had inflicted enough injuries and killed enough people to recognise a desperate situation when he saw one. This was _bad._ Oh fuck, the Mini-Boss’ eyes had closed. Not good at all.

‘Oy. Eyebrows, spark him,’ Squalo commanded suddenly, jolting his two suspiciously quiet Guardians enough to startle them.

‘What?’ Levi frowned, obviously confused. ‘Why do _I_ have to?’

Squalo sneered, irritated and on edge and in no way in the mood to deal with Levi’s immaturity. ‘Give Mini-Boss your Flames; enough to shock him,’ he explained like every word hurt. ‘ _I_ can’t do it; my Flames would probably just send the idiot into a coma. The fucking Prince’s would most like _kill_ him.’

‘But -'

‘VOI! Just _DO IT.’_ Squalo shouted and was even more worried when Sawada didn’t so much as _flinch_ from his volume. 

Levi scowled but reached forward, summoning green sparks to his fingers. He pressed the tip of his index to Sawada’s chest and it didn’t take a second before the brunet jumped out of his skin, spasming as his eyes snapped opened. Sunset hues shrank against their white backdrop, with veins crawling around the edges in shock as a huge gasp left him, like he was trying to re-swallow his soul.

Not Squalo’s best idea he could admit as he waited for Sawada to relax again, moaning as tears welled and he struggled with breathing. Squalo didn’t like it, didn’t like it at all as he felt every shudder from the Mini-Boss, every muscle twitching and the rattle in his chest. (And _please_ don’t let that be internal bleeding.)

‘Oy, Chibi,’ Bel prompted as Sawada’s eyes began to urgently flicker between them. ‘Snap out of it!’ 

‘Bel,’ Squalo said suddenly. ‘Levi.’

He had both their attention in less than a second. He rarely addressed them properly, few of them did. Squalo moved his sword arm carefully around Sawada’s waist - careful because the prosthetic could cut the Mini-Boss in two -  and held the brunet in place to his chest, and pointed with his chin to the steel beam all but crushing the Mini-Boss’ legs.

No wonder Sawada for all his stubbornness hadn’t been able to get up. He _literally_ couldn’t. ‘Move that shit.’

He didn’t need to be able to see Bel’s eyes to know that they had widened. Stupid prince hadn’t noticed either and neither had Levi if his noise of discomfort was anything to go by. It took a moment for Bel to lift himself up, struggling with a weakness in his own leg and probably thinking about the best way he would shift the steel beam, without hurting himself while Levi moved not a moment later.

One end of the steel shafts was already elevated and that was the end Bel chose while Levi grabbed the other. ‘On three,’ Squalo commanded them as Sawada blinked up at him as he inserted his one hand into the brunet’s mouth. His two fellow Guardians nodded and after taking a breath, exclaimed: ‘Three!’ 

Sawada bit into his hand, teeth sinking through the leather of Squalo’s glove and into his flesh. It was not enough to muffle the Mini-Boss’ scream as the weight was clumsily removed. He ignored the few tears that fell. It had been years since Squalo had seen Sawada cry and he had no desire to witness it now. 

Bel dropped backwards quickly afterwards with only a pained grunt to show how much his wound was bothering him. Levi, who was further from the blast - lucky fucker - stood with an obviously slumped from fatigue, but was otherwise not effected as he watched.

Squalo waited with the same patience he waited for Xanxus; waited for those teeth to loosen and the agonised noises to lessen before he spoke. ‘Okay?’

Eyes that were bloodshot and suffering looked back up to him and some recognition seemed to spark within their depths. Slowly, as if in shock, Sawada opened his mouth, jaw twitching with difficulty. Squalo didn’t comment as he took his now bleeding hand away, though he _did_ pause to wipe the crimson trail away from panting lips.

Squinting, Sawada seemed to be trying to look at them. _Try_ being the key word. ‘ _Squ-'_ he had began only to be cut off by some fucking _terrible_ hacking that made Squalo wince. 'S-Squalo?’ He eventually managed, voice as weak as they had ever heard it.

‘Yeah.’ Squalo confirmed. ‘You remember everything?’ 

Sawada’s frown deepened. ‘Explosion,’ he states and yeah, there was that. ‘We got -’ his gaze flickers over them. ‘Wait. Where - where is -‘

Squalo uses his hand to redirect Sawada’s face to his own, firm but also trying not to jar him too much. ‘With Xanxus. Everyone else is with Xanxus.’

I seemed to take a minute; like Sawada was a few moments out of sync with the rest of them. ‘Xan…xus?’

Squalo nods, glad that the other two had left the talking to him. ‘He’s…not in a good way.’

Whatever blood Sawada had, had left in his face is gone. It left him almost corpse like as he stared before the lines of his face hardened again. ‘Take me to him.’

* * *

His hands were wet and red for trying to keep the blood in his Boss’ stomach. Where it should be. Mammon was calm while he did this, however that did not stop him from spitting curses. 

Opposite him were Lussuria and Flan watching silently with dread in their eyes as Xanxus’ breathing got shallower and shallower.

The warm liquid squelched in-between Mammon’s fingers and Lussuria’s breathing hitched. The man was obviously trying to stifle his heavy panting, as he had already exhausted his Flames and had really nothing left to give. 

Ten minutes ago Mammon had ordered him to take a break ‘ _because you’re useless if you collapse’_ but they were losing time and running out of chances to save Xanxus before they lost him.

As if reading his mind, Lussuria straightened from his slouched position. His heartbeat was visibly hammering against his neck and every movement was slow and clumsy; lacking the typical flare and energy he was known for as he dragged himself across the rough floor, to press his hands against Xanxus’ broad chest.

Summoning Flames would be hurting Lussuria by now. Probably more than his injuries did. If you had used too much it would feel like trying to pull blood out of a collapsed vein: painful, sensitive, nauseous and dizzying. It would magnified everything in the most sickening way and would often times lead to death.

Lussuria was approaching that. Sweat was dripping off of his face and the rest of them were really helpless in that they weren't Sun Users. Not even a little bit. 

Flan sat out on the side lines, for once not pointing out what was wrong but that could be because _everything_ was wrong. Or, it might have something to do with Tsunayoshi’s lectures on “there was a time and place”. Either way, it was strange. The only time he moved was when he tried to reenergise them but they had both gone past that.

Minutes twisted and stretched themselves into what seemed like hours and the more they knelt there, hoping against hope for there to be _some_ change, the more their apprehension grew. 

Then, the silence was broken.

‘Sorry to interrupt, but -' Flan states blandly. ‘It looks like they’re back.’ 

Mammon’s hearing was fuzzy from the explosion but it wasn’t long after that, that he sees what Flan had so clearly heard. He lifts his head to spot Squalo and Levi all but lifting Tsunayoshi along. Bel was trailing behind them with watchful eyes and his hands ready to pluck out his weapons. 

Tsunayoshi, however, is a mess. Mammon is far from a doctor but it looked like his legs were broken and the rest of him seemed like one big bruise. 

Squalo and Levi slow as they near them, expression grim. ‘No change?’ the swordsman asked slowly, oddly careful but than Mammon suspects that he might have a broken a rid or two.

Mammon simply shakes his head.

The two of them proceed to lower Tsunayoshi to the ground, mindful of his injuries as Lussuria hisses in sympathy. ‘Oh, honey,’ he says in some distress but Tsunayoshi barely acknowledges it.

Instead, the brunet reaches out a trembling, dirty hand and lowers it with the utmost care onto Xanxus’ chest. He’s not there for a few seconds before he’s breathing out brokenly, lips quivering. ‘He’s…dying.’

Ember eyes were wide but not completely clear as they glanced over Xanxus’s form, with Tsunayoshi’s gaze not leaving him. Mammon nodded again, not wanting to complicate it with too many words when it looked like Tsunayoshi was struggling with staying awake. ‘He had a support beam crushing his ribs when we found him. We moved it but then there's the bleeding,’ Mammon says in a hushed voice. ‘I think it's shrapnel but I’m not sure.’ 

‘He’s not going to last,’ Tsunayoshi states in barely a whisper. ‘Lussuria-san’s Flames have nearly depleted and we’re sitting ducks while we wait here.’ 

Mammon tilted his head and leaves Tsunayoshi to his silence, suspecting him to either be taking the news in or thinking about the best call of action. 

‘Unless…’ Tsunayoshi opened his eyes from where he had tightly closed them, face brightening into something that worriedly resembled determination. ‘Unless you use me.’ 

Mammon didn’t know what Tsunayoshi meant and he couldn’t lie and say he wanted to either. One of the things that hadn’t changed about Tsunayoshi was his care for everyone else and the _lack_ of it towards himself. ‘Pardon?’ he asked.

‘Use me,’ Tsunayoshi repeats, eyes bright - far too bright as they flicker from Xanxus to Mammon. ‘My Flames, to keep Xanxus’ burning. If we c-can keep his core going until reinforcements show up-’

Mammon’s stomach drops and his attention on Tsunayoshi heightens to a sickening degree as the meaning becomes clear. ‘You can’t ask that of me.’

Tsunayoshi’s lips purse into a tight slash across his dusty face shining with sweat, both too pale and too flushed. ‘No, your right. It isn’t fair of me but, Viper -’

His name. His first name is a stumbling roll off of Tsunayoshi’s tongue. Said with care, Tsunayoshi is one of few who knows him as anything but “Mammon” and fewer still that is allowed to speak it. And even _after_ giving Tsunayoshi his permission, it is only used in important moments. 

That Tsunayoshi would call him that _now…_

 _‘No,_ Tsunayoshi -’

‘Voi! Are the two of you going to fill in the rest of the class?’ Squalo demands dangerously, hand still propping Tsunayoshi up in an unconscious effort to help even if the Rain Guardian wouldn’t ever admit to the support. 

‘It's idiocy -!’ Mammon goes to snap, his lips forming a snarl even as Flan interrupts him. 

‘Tsunayoshi-san seems pretty set on it,’ Flan states. And _of course_ Tsunayoshi would be, you could see it in the burning of his eyes and in how his features had set themselves. 

‘I am,’ Tsunayoshi needlessly confirms, gaze sliding across all of then before they settle back onto Mammon. ‘I _know_ you can do it. I -‘

‘It's not a matter being _able to,_ Tsunayoshi. You would never survive the transfer; not in your condition,’ Mammon says curtly and Vongola couldn’t lose both its own leader _and_ the Varia’s. It would - it would destroy _everything_ they had been working on - _for -_ since Tsunayoshi inherited. ‘The gay freak doesn’t have it in him to stabilise you afterwards, and-’

‘Peasants shouldn’t talk amount themselves. Explain what's happening,’ Bel commanded sharply, grin nowhere in sight and slumped unsightly on the floor. 

Mammon could feel his temper fraying but Tsunayoshi took a breath so Mammon stifled his. ‘Right now, I’m suggesting a transfer. I’m asking Mammon to link my core to Xanxus so that his core will keep burning until help reaches us. It won’t stop -- clinical death but if we can keep his core safe then it’ll be simple to resuscitate him.’ 

Lussuria faces pinches, concern making his eyes dark. ‘Tsuna, baby, that is…very generous of you but Mammon’s right. I wouldn’t be able to stabilise the bond -'

It was an absolute must. Mammon might be able to create a link between their cores with his Mist Flames but he would need Sun Flames to heal the damage. otherwise it was likely that the two cores could splinter. _Fracture._ It would be agony for the both of them and they would start haemorrhaging either until the cracks were closed or they _died_.

There was silence as this was processed. 

‘Chibisuke seems awfully sure that someone will come looking for us,’ Bel states as a question, and Mammon knows where his line of thought stems from. If reinforcements arrived before the worst of the transfer could happen then -

‘I haven’t signed in, in over twenty-four hours,’ Tsunayoshi replies. ‘For most agents they get forty-eight hours of radio silence before the system reports them as MIA and I’m alerted. Because of my bad luck, that times been halved if I ever go out into the field.’

Not to mention how overprotective his guardians were and how fucking important Tsunayoshi had become; how instrumental he was.

‘Since _I’m_ the one missing, the message will be sent to Shoichi and any of my Guardians in Italy. They’ll try to get in touch first but my phones gone and my headphones are broken. Next step is to send agents out to my last point of contact.’

Levi scoffed, an unwelcome sound. ‘You didn’t contact _anyone_ after take off-’

Tsunayoshi shakes his head. ‘No, but my headphones would have been broadcasting my position to the Vongola until the blast. Shoichi will be able to find us, I know it.’ His wide eyes stare through Mammon and at that moment, he thinks he hates the man a little. Just a bit. ‘Hayato had already sensed something was wrong before I left. I’m positive that they’re already en-route.’

Mammon grits his teeth. The system Tsunayoshi had implemented (because that certainly _wasn’t_ how things worked under Nono) gave them a safety net. _Help._ Xanxus had minutes before his core emptied and his heart would stop soon after…if -

But if it went _wrong,_ Mammon would be responsible for the death of the two most prominent figures in the mafia. In the world but not nearly as importantly, he would have lost friends, too. The men who gave Mammon and a number of other frankly disturbed people stability. 

‘How long ‘till your guard dog gets here?’ Squalo asked. His expression gave nothing away but out of all the Varia he was perhaps the most loyal to Xanxus and had the most contact with Tsunayoshi as a result.

Tsunayoshi shifted in thought but seemed to instantly regret it with the resulting bone-deep cringe. ‘Hayato’s “Juudaime-radar” has been sensing something was off since Reborn found information on Abandonato. I - I don’t think he’ll be more than an hour at the latest.’

Squalo nods and took that at face value. Even without Tsunayoshi’s intuition or the connection every Guardian had to their Sky through the rings, everyone knew that Gokudera was freakishly in tune with his boss. 

With a deep sigh, Squalo nods. ‘Alright.’ And as Squalo tenses with that agreement, Tsunayoshi relaxes.

‘I don’t remember consenting to this fool’s plan,’ Mammon growls. Squalo was second-in-command in the unlikely case that Xanxus was out of action and _unlikely_ was happening but - but…

Tsunayoshi reaches out with a fragile touch to rest his palm on top of Mammon’s hands that were still absentmindedly plugging Xanxus’ wound. ‘Viper, I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t think this was necessary. If I didn’t believe in you.’

Mammon closes his eyes. ‘Lay down next to Xanxus. Hold his hand. And don’t talk to me,' he snaps what could be their last words to each other.

Tsunayoshi opens his mouth, eyes sorrowful but unwavering and his lips close before any sound can escape. He nods silently and with a clenched jaw drags his broken legs behind him until he sat flatly, opposite to Xanxus. 

Mammon feels sick. 

When Tsunayoshi tries to lean back he hisses and it doesn’t take a genius to see that Tsunayoshi has a dislocated arm, possibly a broken shoulder blade. 

‘Hold on, cutie.’ Lussuria halts him, hands trembling even as he unwinds the scarf from his neck. He folds it quickly but with a clumsiness that is rarely seen from him and then places it behind Tsunayoshi, roughly where his back will rest.

‘You don’t have -'

Lussuria shakes his head before Tsunayoshi can finish. ‘I’m his Sun Guardian and I can’t _heal_ him.’ There's genuine grief in his tone that Mammon all too quickly ignores. ‘And I can’t do anything for you either, Sweetie. So let me do what I can, Lovely.’ 

Tsunayoshi attempts to swallow as he allows Lussuria to lower him on top of the makeshift pillow. There's pain in face that he tries to hide it and there's not a word of complaint.

‘You helped clog the bleeding until I got here. I think you’ve done your job well, as always, Lussuria.’ Tsunayoshi smiles but it's nothing compared to how his face will usually light up. 

With Tsunayoshi settled, Mammon prepares to let go of Xanxus’ wound. ‘Levi, come here and take over.’ He orders. The big oaf frowns, eyes lingering on Tsunayoshi before he nods and hurriedly kneels. He’s the best bet for a substitute; he has two hands and enough weight to apply quite the force.

Mammon moves so he is sat between both of his bosses’ heads, hands already coating themselves in Flame. This was like heart surgery. It had been done before but no one ever plans it. Even the most trained illusionists struggled with taking the Flame - the _essence_ of one person -to weave with another’s. Never mind connect their cores so one could feed from the other. 

And here he was, with no guarantee that this would work, in a destroyed building and with nothing but a depleted Sun User, no equipment and questionable safety, _trying_ it _._

Taking a breath, Mammon states: ‘it's going to hurt.’

Tsunayoshi closes his eyes and reaches out to link a hand with Xanxus’. ‘I know,' he replies.

‘Make sure to remember who asked for this,’ Mammon bites out more cruelly than intended. Even then, there would be no saving him from Tsunayoshi’s Guardians _or_ Reborn. Reborn who would burn the world to the ground for his students (Tsunayoshi especially) and destroy anyone standing in the way of the two of them. 

‘I’ll add interest to your mission payment,’ Tsunayoshi says lightly.

‘I don’t want it,’ Mammon he responds angrily before slamming his glowering hands through the chests of two Skies. He reaches through, deep inside the darkness before he touches his destination.

The screaming starts, the Guardians rush to force them back down, chaos begins and Mammon does his job. 

* * *

Xanxus wakes up to white. His eyes squint against it but it is the clearest indication of where he is: the hospital ward. Varian not Vongolian because of the sloppiness of the paint. Like the Sun Arcobaleno would allow such a half-arsed job. 

He’s usually visiting the hospital ward, not staying in it and annoyance soon overtakes him as he glances at the IV drip and then the heart monitor.

His mind turns, twists against him as he tries to remember how he had gotten here. Soon, the fog clears enough for Xanxus to recall Tsunayoshi calling them out for a mission. Flashes of Tsunayoshi’s distressed face splinter across the edges of the broken glass his thoughts have turned into. 

Not a second later and the summons that requested him and his shit-heads were at the forefront of his mind. Something that had instantly rung alarm bells. Vongola and allied families were under near constant supervision by the government and local police. Only an amateur would group such a large number of recognisable faces together. 

And Tsunayoshi wasn’t an amateur nor was he stupid. A lot of fucks never noticed but Tsunayoshi understood how things worked in the mafia, however much he would pretend not to. Until he had you by the balls, that is.

He simply wouldn’t group six of his most powerful and well known “allies” together. It made them easier track, harder to hide and alibis could be a real bitch when some of their activities became less than legal. The pigs would have a _field day._ It's why the closet thing they had to groups - outside of undercover - was the “buddy system” Tsunayoshi had set up, and even _that_ was switched up.

Tsunayoshi knew better but had sent this demand out anyway. 

Xanxus knew better as well but agreed to its fucking stupidity regardless. Something that would cause Tsunayoshi to make such a mistake or a deliberate decision that was _still_ retarded, needed to be checked out. 

(Fucking Guardians hadn’t really noticed but they could figure it out on their own. He couldn’t do _everything_ around here.)

Stepping onto that jet, that feeling of wrongness doubled when he had spotted Tsunayoshi in one of the seats, slumped with as much as he could get away with and looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. 

Tsunayoshi had learnt long ago that the time when he could play nursemaid to his Guardians had come and gone. Mafia bosses weren’t _meant_ to go on assignments. Branch families like the Varia were one thing but the boss from the main house? _Please._

Tsunayoshi was rarely on active duty. Besides the mountains of paperwork there was always someone to give an order to. Always something todo. Xanxus could tell how it killed him because under all that timid shit was a _fighter._ Someone who hated not being able to take care of things himself. 

Still, however frustrated Tsunayoshi knew there was a time and a place. 

Xanxus had asked what the trash thought he was doing but got no response. Fed up and determined to see this through, he had demanded take off where Tsunayoshi would act weird through the whole journey. He didn’t try to engage them in irritating small talk but spent the entire time looking out the window, brow so heavy it darkened his eyes. 

Xanxus had to restrain himself from going over there and pinning the brunet to his chair. Threats never worked as well anymore and he’d get his answers soon enough. 

Right after Tsunayoshi had disintegrated the doors standing in his way, to bellowing out a name like he was expelling the truth from his body, it was made all too clear.

This shit was personal. Tsunayoshi had chosen Xanxus and his men because they were involved, and sang a bigger statement than his own Guardians would and Tsunayoshi himself? He was there as a message. It was clear he did not want to go, did not want to be so close to this famiglia.

Because Tsunayoshi had goals; he had his determination, but he couldn’t be perceived as weak and neither could his family. He had to stop attacks before they could occur and to do that he had to act just as monstrous as the mafioso he was trying to ruin.

The fight that came afterwards, Xanxus could only recall in flashes. He did know, with startling clarity that he had killed. It had been a small famiglia but he had still taken out no small a number. 

He could feel his lips tug downwards, wishing he could have slept longer, as it would be the only shuteye he’d be getting for awhile. He’d never been able to sleep after, not since the first time were he had stayed up for nearly three days before Enrico had hauled his arse back to his bedroom, and using something close to _magic_ to get him to sleep.

Enrico had been able to send him off every time afterwards until the fool got himself and his stupid pinstriped suit killed.

Now, Xanxus had nothing but insomnia. Not like there were many assassinations anymore, with Tsunayoshi at the helm, but there was enough.

Insomnia and pain. _Fuck._ His stomach felt like an elephant had been dancing on it and and his Flames ached like they had been stretched so thin they were but string. His core sung, thrumming with something close to agony while it seemed displaced; a foreign touch that resonated throughout his chest. 

Oh, when he got his hands on whoever -

He froze mid thought. _Grenade_. He had walked into the path of a grenade. Of all the stupid, idiotic - 

Xanxus growls under his breath. This is what he gets for being sentimental. He had never given a fuck before; had deliberately treated his Guardians like they were worse than trash and everyone else, well, they could have all died for all he cared.

And then he meets a boy whose scrawny and cowardly. Fucking trash. And everything changes.

Losing to a brat half his age was bad enough but Xanxus didn’t just _lose._ They had battled like their lives had depended on it and for Tsunayoshi it _had._ But every blow they dealt each other told a silent story. Every Flame a passion. A resolve. 

Xanxus hadn’t taken the brat seriously. In fact, Xanxus had just seen it as a further insult from _daddy dearest._ The brunet had been small; even by Japanese standards. He slumped as he stood, shoulders a line of defeat and held a surrender in his eyes that irritated Xanxus to no end. 

Staring at the pathetic lump of skin and bone a new enraged fire burned through Xanxus. He had thought _this -_ this _is the little shit the old man had picked out?_ To replace Enrico? Massimo? Federico?

It had seemed obvious that the only reason Nono had chosen Tsunayoshi was because of his blood rite, and not any talent or ability that Xanxus had processed.

But, then, everything was so fucked up back then. The pride he had in his inheritance turned into shame and embarrassment which only fuelled his rage. That had been destroyed when he had stuck his nose in something that he shouldn’t have in a bout of curiosity. 

Nothing he had thought to be true was. He was lie. A fake. A _joke._

The old man hadn’t understood that even with all his so called “compassion”. Maybe things would have turned out differently if he had but all he saw was a threat to the family in Xanxus’ ensuing tantrum. 

The brat had seen right through him, though. The thrash he had been a hair away from killing; had seen the truth hardened assassins hadn’t. And in time to come Tsunayoshi Sawada became a man that could look at him and not pity him. See all Xanxus was, all his rough edges and darkened past and care despite it all. 

Stupid - _stupid -_ runt of a mafia boss.

And, now, here he was in the hospital ward after following Tsunayoshi’s dumb as shit example. Lady Luck seemed to be with him for once, as he was still alive after that but if he was _this_ worse off, than how was…

_Tsunayoshi._

His mouth went dry as he looked around the room again. To the empty bed beside his own 

He’d never admit it. Wouldn’t -  _c_ _ouldn’t,_ but he had…feelings for Tsunayoshi. He honestly couldn’t pinpoint them; when they first started. It was all seven levels of hell trying to ignore them, especially with how much they ended up seeing each other. 

Once Nono had been assassinated the inheritance ceremony had come on quickly and Xanxus and his Guardians were forced to attend. It was a kick in balls but the Varia were already on bad footing after trying to off the kid and needed to save some face. 

It had been the first time Xanxus had seen Tsunayoshi since he was fifteen and he had to do a double-take. Tsunayoshi had been nearing twenty, pulled out of university with the old man’s death but seeing him there, decked out in a suit that was perfectly tailored; fitting in all the right places, made Xanxus see that Tsunayoshi was far from a child.

Xanxus still remembers the curve of Tsunayoshi’s spin and his pert arse. His figure was still slender but now it was all sleek muscle, deceptively gentle looking; all soft lines underneath. His hands were much the same, appearing small though Xanxus knew that he could easily punch any of the mafiosi there through a wall if he so wanted.

Of course, those weren't the thoughts Xanxus desired to have and turned away. Waiting for the whole thing to be over so he could go through his liquor cabinet.

He didn’t expect Tsunayoshi to seek him out. Xanxus had thought the trash would get tongue-tied or trip or shy away; to dispel whatever ridiculous illusion Xanxus’ dick was operating on in finding _any_ interest in him. 

But Tsunayoshi wasn’t tongue-tied. He didn’t trip. He wasn’t scared of Xanxus. Tsunayoshi met his gaze, his eyes having fully converted over to how they appeared when he used to enter Hyping Dying Will mode; a sunset in his sight that blazed even when tranquil.

‘ _Thanks for coming, Xanxus,’_ Tsunayoshi had said as soon as he thought he had Xanxus’ attention. His pet Arcobaleno had been watching the whole thing with weary amusement. Like Tsunayoshi’s stupid trusting nature had silenced any protest under resignation, that his student would do what he wanted regardless.

His face had lost whatever puppy fat had remained the last Xanxus had seen him; maturing into something strong but subtle. His lips - smooth, peach and fuller than what someone would expect from a man - were stretched into a hesitant smile. 

‘ _I didn’t come for you,’_ Xanxus had stated because it was true and he wanted to see if he could push Tsunayoshi. 

But Tsunayoshi just laughed awkwardly, a weak sound and it took Xanxus that long to see how… _sad_ Tsunayoshi seemed. ‘ _Yeah, I figured,’_ he replied calmly but his voice was rough like he had been shouting. ‘ _I’m sorry.’_

 _‘For what?’_ Xanxus snapped uneasily. 

Tsunayoshi licks his lips, adding colour to them and only drawing more attention to them as the shine in the light. ‘ _That you had to come. It must be uncomfortable for you.’_

Xanxus snorts but relaxes. ‘ _Worry about your own comfort,’_ he demands instead, feeling more at ease. ‘ _You’re gunna have fuckin’ trash kissing your arse all night.’_

Tsunayoshi grimaced and Xanxus couldn’t tell if that was from how crude he had been or in genuine distaste. ‘ _Reborn’s said as much,’_ he admits with a sigh.

Xanxus had looked back at the Arcobaleno but the child’s form merely shrugged and inclined his head. (The shitty scientist had still been working on speeding up their ageing at that point.)

‘ _Keep looking like someone’s drowned your cat and you’ll never get rid of all the scrum that’ll be following you around,’_ Xanxus warned, knowing that with how tired and pathetic Tsunayoshi seemed he’d have people kissing his shoes, telling him his shit doesn’t stink from here to forever. 

‘ _Probably,’_ Tsunayoshi agreed thoughtfully. ‘ _I guess I can just stick with you since no one wants to be coming over here.’_

_‘What?’_

And Tsunayoshi _had_ stayed with him for the rest of the night much to his tutor’s - then turned advisor’s - exasperation. (And what sane person promotes an infamous assassin like that?) Regardless, Tsunayoshi wouldn’t be moved. 

Xanxus would realise later that Tsunayoshi hadn’t really been heeding any warning on Xanxus’ part. He had been trying to be kind, by keeping Xanxus company when everyone else had kept their distance from him like he had the fucking plague. By having an all but one-sided conversations that consisted of quiet words and contemplative silences.

The kindness had never really stopped from there. Tsunayoshi sent invites for the Varia to join them for Christmas that year (and every year after).

‘ _Why the fuck would we do that?!’_ Xanxus had demanded once he had opened the letter that had been placed on his desk.

‘ _Ha…um. Because you're family?’_ Tsunayoshi had responded almost sheepishly.

Tsunayoshi stopped the rumours of Xanxus’ origins with a single sentence one meeting, when some choice words had managed to whisper themselves to Tsunayoshi’s sharp ears. 

‘ _I don’t much care for gossip. I care for it even less when it's about my family. Stop before someone_ helps _you to stop.’_

Tsunayoshi who allowed the Varia to join the Vongola’s annual meeting when that had been stopped after Xanxus had been put on ice. Actually asking for their opinion and refusing to treat them like simple guns for hire.

Xanxus didn’t lie to himself. Not often. But maybe that was why. Tsunayoshi Sawada _was_ a bit of an enigma who had grown until he could _afford_ to be kind. 

Maybe it's because Xanxus had never tasted anyone and known them to be sweet. Who hadn’t left Xanxus with a bitter after taste. 

Those contemplations were lost with the loud exclamation: ‘what the _fuck_ are you talking about?’

Xanxus’ hearing zeroed in to outside his door and the disgruntled sigh that followed the shout. ‘Where the hell do you think you are, stupid shark? Keep it the _fuck_ _down_.’

The medics Tsunayoshi kept having sent over would half kill anyone making a disturbance. They didn’t really care who you were. They were in charge of the hospital wing; this was their territory and everyone knew it.

‘Then fucking explain!’ Squalo demanded, never one to follow advice when someone commented on the volume in which he bellowed. Or anything else, for that matter. Stubborn shit.

‘What did I just say?’ Mammon snapped back. ‘Tsunayoshi _discharged himself._ He had a real fight with Lussuria and his head medic over it but apparently he thought that the boss had stabilised enough for him to leave.’

‘Where's Chibisuke now?’ Bel asks, sounding weirdly invested on someone's well being. 

‘From what Reborn says, he’s in a meeting. Some troubles cropped up since his little “vacation”.’

‘You’d think after the close call he had -’ Levi was cut off but it was enough for something cold to run down Xanxus’ spine.

_Close call?…_

‘We should have kept peasants at the chibi’s door,’ Bel states and Xanxus’ decides he’s heard more than enough of a secondhand conversation. 

‘We couldn’t keep Tsunayoshi here much longer anyway. His Guardian’s wanted him back at the Vongola HQ days ago,’ Mammon says, more than irritation in his voice. 

Grunting, Xanxus used his elbow to prop himself up. Ignoring the imitate pain and dizziness as he forced himself to move. The black spots weren’t a warning, they were annoyance and he treated them as such as he willed them to disappear while he roughly disconnected the IV. Point blank destroyed the heart monitor because it could alert anyone that he had “flatlined”.

Swinging his legs over the bed he took only a moment to prepare himself, keeping all of his attention on the conversation he was about to interrupt. 

He demanded his body’s compliance as he kicked the door open. Knowing immediately that he was far from full strength when the hinges merely loosened. Feeling weak, he propped himself up with the door frame. Glowering bloody murder at his Guardian’s stunned faces.

‘What the _fuck_ are you trash talking about?!’


End file.
